


An Encyclopedia of Very Ordinary Things

by GhostChoir



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Angst, BAMF Gerard Keay, Boys In Love, Boys in Skirts, Canon Asexual Character, Canon-Typical Bastard Old Men, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Kiss-Positive Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, M/M, Multi, Other, Polyamory, Protective Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Protective Martin Blackwood, Sex-Repulsed Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Someone give Martin a gun, as a treat, he deserves it, the boys just all love and protect each other okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29272425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostChoir/pseuds/GhostChoir
Summary: Placing a kiss on Gerry’s cheek as he walked by, the sweatered man bent down towards Jon’s ear,  a mischievous light dancing across his eyes.“You really are quite beautiful, you know,” he whispered.Jon’s face lit up like a traffic cone, red trailing from his collarbone up to the tips of his ears.——————————————————————————————————Martin, Jon, and Gerry couldn’t be happier. They had bested Elias, escaped the Institute, and were finally free to live their own lives.But, unfortunately, in a world where Fears lurk in every corner, no story can stay happy for long.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	1. Prologue: On Bookshops and Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a small winding street in the corner of Chelsea, nestled between a “Madam Lou-Anne’s Occult Emporium” and an unnamed gallery of the subversive arts, you will find a bookshop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to my amazing beta, acrisisofbeholding, who continues to be my inspiration and motivation during these hard times. Love you dude!
> 
> TW: None

On a small winding street in the corner of Chelsea, nestled between a “Madam Lou-Anne’s Occult Emporium” and an unnamed gallery of the subversive arts, you will find a bookshop. It's a tiny thing, something you probably wouldn’t even notice unless you had been looking for it, and yet within its walls holds such joy- such life. Shelf after shelf of novels from every place imaginable, and even some from places not. Every corner of its 12 meter by 12 meter facade seemed to be packed full of softly yellowing pages, and the musty aroma of antique leather bindings and flowing ink could be smelled throughout. A narrow set of stairs curled itself up the leftmost wall, twisting up into an unseen second floor. If you walked just close enough, it is said you would be able to hear the soft notes of a guitar mixed with the scent of rich black coffee wafting down from above. 

Behind a counter pushed out to just in front of the furthermost wall, there sits a man. His graying black hair falls in ringlets from a bun set messily atop his head, and a gentle smile curves up just at the sides of his lips as reads a crumpled note held in his pockmarked hands. Square glasses, almost ancient in appearance, lie pressed into indents on his nose- barely below his forest eyes- as his pupils scan the words. An olive cardigan wraps snuggly around his shoulders, as an ankle length skirt comes to sit just above his waist. Overall, his appearance exudes the aura of a man much closer to 60 than of one in his early 30s. Nonetheless, he is happy.

The bookshop is an escape from the chaos of the world lying outside its walls- a safe haven for those who are in search of a place of peace, much like the cardigan-clad figure needed when he first opened its doors. The universe may be ever shifting, a fast-changing realm of fear and loneliness, but within this place- for as long as it stands and perhaps even beyond- residents say you can feel safety wrap around you like a shawl. A sense of calm, pervasive and deep, found at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed that! I’m going to try to post updates on a somewhat regular basis, so you should be able to get your fill of JonGerryMartin content as often as you need. Feel free to leave kudos and a comment, seeing your opinions always brings a smile to my face.


	2. Adventure in Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Gerry argue about vampires and old women. Martin has never loved them more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta of my work, light of my life, acrisisofbeholding, thank you again for your constant love and support.
> 
> TW: None... unless you count an attack of tickling

Two figures stood side by side, book-shelving having come to a halt with the onset of a great debate. The one on the left, a lean mass of black eyeliner and leather pants, had his arm sat atop the head of his partner, the other having clearly given up on trying to avoid this turn of events- although it was clear he wished he hadn’t. Indeed, he looked much like a pouting kitten whose favorite mouse toy had just been confiscated- his shoulders hunched in resignment, olive cardigan hanging loosely, but eyes alight with the desire for revenge.

“-look, all I’m saying is that in a fight between Gertrude and Dracula, Gerty would totally kick his ass.” The taller one looked quite proud of himself for his declaration.

The smaller man let out a skeptical chuckle and rolled his eyes. “And I am telling you that you are horribly maligned. There is no way that she would beat an over 400 year old vampire-“

“She beat Elias, didn't she?”

“Well… technically no, she didn’t. We did. But I will concede that she came close.” He admitted begrudgingly, as though the very act of it caused him pain.

“Exactly! And Dracula doesn’t even have that bastard’s creepy voyeur powers!”

“You’re right, Gerry. But I believe you are forgetting that he could, oh, I don’t know, snap her like a twig because _he has the strength of TWENTY MEN!”_

“He would have to actually get close to her to do that though.”

At this, the cardigan-clad man let his lips curve up into a victorious smirk, seeming for all the world as though he was, in fact, the cat who had caught the canary. “Gerry… Gerry… Gerard, my love and partner whom I cherish deeply, Dracula can _control animals._ He doesn’t need to get close to her, he could send a variety of other beasts to do his bidding.”

“Yes, but Jon, light of my life, keeper of my heart and hair dye, have you considered that-“

Just then a voice floated down from the floor above them as a broad shouldered man in a large striped sweater ambled down the stairs. He had two cups of tea grasped in his hands and an amused smile that shone gently on his face.

“Are you two still going at it?” 

“No...in fact, I believe that Gerry was just about to concede upon realizing the futility of his argument.”

Behind him, Gerry was mimicking Jon’s actions, nose pointing up into the air and mouth silenting exaggerating the words. He looked directly at the tea-bearing Martin and made air-quotes around the words “ _FuTiLity Of HiS ArgUMent,”_ at which point, said man let out a poorly-concealed chuckle and Jon whacked Gerry’s elbow off his head.

“Boyfriends who make fun of me don’t get armrest privileges,” he grumbled. An arm wrapped around his waist in response, a lilting “buuut baaaabe!” emitting from the now sulking goth behind him. Jon let out a disgruntled _umph_ \- arms flailing at his sides as he was pulled taunt up to Gerry’s much larger torso. Huffing, his lips folded into a soft smile as a series of gentle kisses were pressed up the back of his neck. He could feel the tension of a long day’s work drain out from him as the safety of his boyfriend’s arms caused him to sag backwards and let out a sigh- one filled with happiness and a sense of content.

“This is unfair… you are abusing your power over me.” He, admittedly, didn’t sound terribly upset at the prospect.

Gerry let out a laugh, the warmth of it settling into Jon’s scalp like sunlight, “Yes, yes, I’m terrible, I know. But you looooooove me.”  
Eyes shifting down to look at the floor, a blush played across Jon’s tawny skin as he replied with an unconvincingly unaffected tone, “...unfortunately.”

By this point Martin had set the tea down on the counter, and began meandering back to the two of them.

When he saw the look on Jon’s face, he couldn’t help but snort. You would think that after living together for over three years, the man would be used to the affection, but alas, it seemed as though it was not to be. It was funny, he could walk in on Martin and Gerry mid-coitus, and wouldn’t bat an eye, but direct any of that attention towards him, and he would run away faster than Peter Lukas had that time he ran into Martin buying knives at the store. It was adorable, really, and Martin couldn’t imagine him any other way. 

Placing a kiss on Gerry’s cheek as he walked by, the sweatered man bent down towards Jon’s ear, a mischievous light dancing across his eyes.

“You really are quite beautiful, you know,” he whispered.

Jon’s face lit up like a traffic cone, red trailing from his collarbone up to the tips of his ears. Sputtering, and making one final mad-cap attempt at holding onto any sense of dignity, he tried to respond.

“You- ! We- I!...”

Gerry smirked.

“Yes, Jonathan?”

“I am being attacked from both sides-”

At this, he could practically sense his boyfriend’s eyebrows raise as one arm released him and had begun to trail down his sides

“Don’t you start, Gerry! You know very well that is not what I meant!”

“I don’t know Jon, do I?” There was very clear amusement in his tone as he continued to trail his fingers on where he knew Jon was most ticklish.

Hand coming up to cover his mouth, his glasses slid down to the end of his nose as he tried to contain his laughter

“Martin-!” 

At this, said man came to join Gerry in the attack, effectively caging the smaller man in from both sides.

Eventually, when he could hold it in no more, Jon began to giggle- yes, giggle- as the two of them continued their ministrations.

“Alright, fine! I admit defeat! I surrender! Anything to stop this blasted assault on-” Another giggle left his throat without his consent and, at last, he conceded that there was likely no escape from this tickling hell. 

Minutes later, when the three of them were thoroughly spent- the tickling having transformed into a gentle caressing along Jon’s arms and his spine- Martin mumbled quietly, “You know, I think our tea is getting cold by now, loves.”

“Hmmm, I suppose so. Now, I wonder whose fault that could be,” Jon said rather pointedly- granted, in a tone much more full of joking anger than any real irritation.

Grip releasing on both sides, the two of them released their partner from his wool and leather cage, and together they made their way over towards the small counter. Jon’s hands sat in the palms of his loving assailants, one intertwined with Martin and the other with Gerry. 

It occurred to him, just then, that he felt as though there was very little that could go wrong- not with the three of them here, like this, safe in the presence of one another.

  
  
  


Then the bell hanging above the door jingled quietly, and a man walked in. He was relatively average in build, middle-aged, and he had ‘only two eyes.”

They were cold and gray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry I’ve done this, but I’m afraid the bastard man just refuses to die. It’s both a blessing and a curse... mainly a curse.


	3. A Villain Returns... Sort of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now, now, there is no need for violence Gerard-”
> 
> “It’s Gerry, thanks. And give me one good reason why I shouldn’t light you up right now like I did to the body of yours in your creepy voyeur palace, you little rat-faced freak?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta for this chapter was acrisisofbeholding, who currently has a FANTASTIC fic out called “All the Many Shades of Gerry Delano” which all of you should check out if you get the chance. It too has Gerry-snark and our boys being soft.
> 
> TW: Panic attack, threats of immolation

Gerry had gently pushed Jon behind himself and Martin, a lighter in his hand before Jon had even begun to process what was happening.

“Now, now, there is no need for violence Gerard-”

“It’s Gerry, thanks. And give me one good reason why I shouldn’t light you up right now like I did to the body of yours in your creepy voyeur palace, you little rat-faced freak?”

Behind him, Jon had begun to hyperventilate, eyes turning glossy and blank as they shifted from forest green to piercing neon. Breaths became ragged and heavy, as though the very oxygen itself had become a scarcity to him. Words began flowing from his mouth, rapid and wild, a waterfall of fear pushing itself through his lips.

“No no no no you can't be here you aren't _allowed to be here_ we stopped you we broke free you can't have them you can't have them you _CAN’T HAVE THEM-”_

Tears fell from his eyes in large gobs, burning their way down his cheeks like acid, and bile began to rise up his throat, stinging in its intensity.

He couldn't have them.

He wasn’t allowed to have them

They were _his!_

They were _his assistants!_

_His…_

_His…_

_His…_

_HIS!-_

Warm wool-covered arms wrapped around him, pulling him close. A familiar hand began to lace its fingers through his hair, softly scratching at his scalp, grounding in their intimacy. A voice began to whisper gently into his ears, quiet and even- he recognized this voice… didn’t he?

“Shhh, Jon. It’s okay. We aren’t going anywhere. We aren’t letting him hurt us. It’s okay. We are okay.”

The sweet nothings wormed their way through his terror-addled mind, layering themselves like a blanket over the powers threatening to overtake him. 

He knew who this was…. That’s right, he Knew who this was. 

“...Martin?” He stuttered out, barely loud enough to reach his own ears.

“That’s it Jon, that’s it. Deep breaths. I’m here. Gerry’s here. We are all here.”

“Martin, we have to go. Martin please we have to _get out_ -”

The hand petting his hair moved its way down to cup his face.

“We aren’t there Jon. We made it out. You did it, we aren’t there.”

“...I did it?”

Tender kisses pressed themselves into his hair, behind his ear, onto his cheek- kissing away the panic, kissing away the tears.

“That’s right Jon. Remember? We aren’t in the institute anymore,” Martin continued.

“We made it out. All of us. I opened a little cafe, Gerry got a job as a tattoo artist, you have your own bookshop. We made it out… we’re okay.”

“Re-Really?”

“Yeah, Jon, I promise. Swear it on all the good cows in Scotland.”

A bubble rose up in his throat. 

Oh, a laugh.

And then another.

And then another.

He couldn’t stop laughing… Why was he laughing?

“That’s it, Jon. Just let it out. You’re safe here, it’s okay.” The laughter transformed from hysteria into deep, heaving sobs as Jon turned around and pressed his head into Martin’s recognizable smell. Earl grey and cinnamon and falling leaves. 

Home.

That’s right, he was home.

_They_ were home.

Slowly, he could feel his vision beginning to clear as his senses started to return to him. He was in the bookshop. He was here with Martin, with Gerry. They had all broken free, gotten out, escaped. He was okay. They were okay. Everything was okay. 

Over Martin’s whispers, Jon could now hear the rich, soothing voice he loved so much- Gerry.

“-What? Did you think you were just allowed to waltz in here? Back into our lives. _After_ _everything that you did!?_ ”

Another voice followed. This one he also recognized… unfortunately. It was clear and cutting, deep in a way that you felt in your very soul- that chilled you down to the bone and beyond.

“I had expected our interaction to be more civil, but I see now that even that was too much to hope for.” A nettled sigh left the man’s- Elias’s, he could tell now- thoat. “Nevertheless, I’m afraid I didn’t have much of a choice, so you’ll have to forgive me for the rude interruption of your little game of ‘playing house’.”

More aware now, Jon felt a growl grow deep in his stomach and he shakily pushed himself away from Martin.

“What do you want from us, Elias?”

“Oh, Jonathan! How lovely of you to join us!”

All at once, the three former institute employees spoke, “Shut up.”

Elias chuckled at them, as though they were the ones facing off against an angry mob of armed past employees, not him. “Touchy, I see. But since you asked so nicely… It just so happens that I require your assistance.”

Martin let out a borderline hysterical, “Ha!” 

How dare he ask them for help?! How dare he come into their home, into their safe space, and ask them to help him- him! the lunatic who tried to hold them captive forever, who forced Jon to think of himself as a monster unworthy of their love? God, how he wanted to punch that man. 

“You, Mr. All-Seeing Dickhead who gets off on the trauma of others, need _our_ help?”

Martin gave the man a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “You’ll have to forgive us if we don’t buy it.”

By now Gerry had made his way closer to Elias, practically towering over the man with his 6 foot stature, steel-toed combat boots and all. He lit the flame from his lighter just in front of the graying figure’s face, the glint of the fire reflected in those empty, smiling eyes.

“Get. Out.” 

The smile shrank by a hair.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Gerard. I wasn’t joking when I said I needed your help.”

The goth snarled. “Oh, yeah? What could possibly be so important that you would be willing to face the people who burned your original self to ashes just to ask for help?”

“Ah, yes… that. Though indeed a relatively large inconvenience, I am loath to admit that, on the scale of importance as of now, such a thing barely rates as even a two.” 

It was this that got the boys’ attention. There were very few things in this life that they could be certain of, one of which was Elias’s own attachment to himself. For him to be able to disregard such a thing, or even consider it to be of less than grand importance, something very serious must have been happening indeed. 

Gerry lowered the lighter, just barely, but enough to show that he was willing to allow Elias to continue his declaration without fear of immolation. 

“Thank you, I must admit things were getting quite heated there for a moment, I was almost worried-”

“Get. To. The. Point.” It was Jon who had spoken this time, compulsion lacing his every word. By now, he was tired and angry and, quite frankly, too sick to his ex-boss’s bullshit to care whether or not he was using his powers. He just wanted the day to be over.

Elias visibly shuttered at this, a moan leaving his lips and a blush faintly rising up his neck and- No, that was a path the three of them were not willing to go down. Not today… _not ever_.

“Right, well, in that case, I’ll be blunt.” He closed his eyes, not in pleasure this time, but instead looking as though he was physically steeling himself for what he was about to say.

And with good reason.

No one could have expected the words that were going to leave his lips- not even the Web itself.

“Something out there is killing off the avatars.” 

His shoulders slumped in an uncharacteristic display of weakness, as though so weary was he of this lifetime that he could no longer be bothered to keep up appearances. He spoke again- and at this sentence, Jon, Gerry, and Martin alike could feel a great something terrible begin settling in their guts.

“...And not one of us has been able to find a way to stop it.”

Gerry was the first one to speak after hearing the news, and what he said summed up the general consensus among those in the room quite nicely.

”...well, fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the man, the myth, the immortal bastard twink himself- he returns. I should feel regret for this, but I don’t- because I too am a villain.
> 
> Again, thank you so much to all of you who have left comments and kudos. Your support truly means the world to me!


End file.
